


E4671-1

by Kiss_Shining



Series: Kakarot, Not Goku [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Relationships, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gen, Graphic Description, Implied Relationships, Minor Violence, Non-Canon Relationship, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 07:34:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19998223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiss_Shining/pseuds/Kiss_Shining
Summary: Everyone was so nice on Earth. They greeted him with a pleasant smile, delicious food, and useful senzu beans. And whenever he left to return to Planet Vegeta, they never forgot to give him tons of supplies for the journey. But maybe that was because kindness went a long way, and Goku was full of it.





	E4671-1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be mindful of the tags. I chose to leave the rating blank this time, but keep in mind that this is _not_ a G-rated fic.
> 
> I'm trying something new, so as always, if requested, I'll add an OOC tag. But if it's OOC, it's completely intentional. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

“ _Kakarot, report to the Assembly Hall at 1840. Kakarot, report to the Assembly Hall at 1840_.”

Goku groaned, tossing in his cot before dragging the torn blankets over his head. But the feminine voice droned on endlessly, and he gave up on the small fog of sleep with an irritated pout and a shake of his head. Grabbing the scouter, he mindlessly jammed on both of the side buttons until her voice ceased, and then stretched, trying his best to crack every single crick in his back. No matter how much he whined and complained in Vegeta’s ears that the beds were just too uncomfortable, Vegeta did nothing more than brush him off with a slight dismissal. So he was left to fight with the aches and pains of the equivalent of a measly thirty zeni bed. But it could have been worse; on away missions, he often didn’t have the luxury to lay down in anything at all.

He grabbed his scouter and placed it on his face, waiting for the resolution to adjust before he pressed on the buttons again, viewing and clearing his messages. But then he got up to the new notification, and his fingers paused.

Goku heard quite a bit about the Saiyans’ past.

After two decades of turmoil, heartache, and abuse, King Vegeta finally gave into the frantic words of the council, and he staged a rebellion against Frieza, who was their tyrannical captor. And they had won, although it hadn’t been without sacrifice. All of the first class elites, a majority of the second class soldiers, three of the five members of his father’s old team, and the King himself had died in the raid, leaving the rest of the citizens of Planet Vegeta in shambles. They were free from bondage, but they were without a ruler. Murmurs spread throughout the land, and unceremoniously, Prince Vegeta was thrust onto the throne from an early age. But he had shadowed over his father during every meeting, every battle, every victory, and he gained his bearings quickly. He saw how the Saiyans were disrespected by the other planets all because of Frieza, and he made a conscious decision to undo all of the damage done. He would make sure that everyone heard of the Saiyans before they choked on their own blood. So he had several parties scope the galaxy, and then the universe, for noteworthy planets to conquer and sell.

But Goku wouldn’t do that. It was one thing if they needed his help to re-establish the Saiyans’ might. He always wanted to meet amazing new fighters and take his strength to the next level. He was able to become a Super Saiyan that way, and he continued to grow that way as well. But becoming stronger didn’t require the lives of those weaker than him. So when he was assigned to such a task, he tried to convince Vegeta to keep the citizens of that planet alive. _After all_ , he had argued, _who will remember the Saiyans if no one is there_? Back then, Vegeta had frowned thoughtfully before slowly conceding, and Goku was certain that he wouldn’t think about killing others again.

And yet, right in front of his eyes was another annihilation assignment.

He hadn’t even bothered to dress into his favorite orange gi; he used Instant Transmission to teleport into the King’s Chamber, right where he knew Vegeta would be. He stormed right up to the Lrix and slammed his hands on the edges. Many of the councilman that sat around the round table shot him dirty looks, used to his impromptu appearances, but he ignored them. Goku didn’t particularly care for what they thought anyways.

“You gave me another one again.”

“You’re blind if you can’t see I’m busy, Kakarot.”

“You know that I won’t do this mission.”

Momentarily, Vegeta’s eyes flickered up at his before they returned back to the mound of papers in front of him.

“I wasn’t aware that you had a choice in the matter.”

Goku pouted. Aggression never worked well with Vegeta, and Goku didn’t like to be mean. He never had the heart for it, not with him. “Vegeta…c’mon. I thought we had agreed that we weren’t going to do that kind of stuff anymore.”

Vegeta stamped a page before handing off a small stack off to the impatient councilman to the right of him. “I said no such thing.”

“But you _promised_!”

Finally reaching his limit, Vegeta huffed, glaring at Goku. The officials that sat beside him froze, but Goku was undeterred, just like he always was.

“In your haste to get here, you obviously didn’t read the notification in its entirety.”

Frowning, Goku rechecked his scouter, finally allowing the message to slowly descend on his screen, and when he got to the last paragraph, he shrunk into himself a little, much to the pleasure of those closest to him.

“Oh…”

“Yes, ‘ _oh_ ,’ you buffoon. Now if you’ve got nothing better to do than to burst in here and bellyache like an immature child, I would suggest you get ready for departure. I expect you and the rest of the Neo-Planet Elite Force to report to the Assembly Hall no later than 1840. And I do mean no later. I won’t be so lenient as to let you get away with being thirty minutes late again.”

Now in a fairly better mood, Goku was much more amiable. He gave Vegeta a small bow and an apologetic smile, one that the king scoffed at, waving his belated show of respect away dismissively. He was going to leave, but he stopped just a few paces short of the two sliding doors at the end of the hallway. Goku wondered if, after what he just did, he could push his luck a little further.

“I want to go to Earth first,” he said. “That’s okay, right?”

A long wave of silence descended over the seventeen men that stood in the King’s Chamber, and Goku wondered if this would be the defining moment. But the king, not unlike the cantankerous complaints of the councilman, was much too merciful on him. What others couldn’t even dream of getting away with Goku did without a second thought. Which is why no one was surprised when he simply sighed and returned back to his work.

“Do as you wish.”

Goku grinned. “Awesome! Thanks so much, King Vegeta! I promise I’ll bring back some senzu beans for us.”

With a small wave, he placed two fingers on his forehead and teleported to where his teammates were. They sat in the corner of the vacated Mess Hall in a semicircle, quietly talking amongst themselves. When Goku called out to them, Fasha was the first to respond.

“You’re going to the weaklings,” she greeted, and Goku smiled a bit brighter.

“How’d you know?”

“You have that look on your face again. It’s so obvious.”

Upon hearing that he was leaving for Earth, Raditz sneered. He got up and pushed his younger brother back until there was a great deal of distance between them.

“We’ve got a mission in less than eighteen hours, and you’re going on a field trip to some puny planet in the middle of nowhere? You must be joking, Kakarot.”

“It’s not that small…and I already got Vegeta’s approval—”

“ _King_ Vegeta,” Raditz corrected sharply.

“—to go. I promise I’ll be back just in time for us to leave.” He clapped his hands together and bowed his head. “Sorry about this, but I promise I’ll bring you guys back some senzu beans too. You’re always saying how we don’t have enough of them, so this is the perfect chance!”

Raditz clenched his fist, but just as quickly as he became angry was as quickly as he deflated again. He sat back on the floor with a grumble, and next to him, Toma gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“I honestly don’t even see what’s so good about those Earthlings that you’d allow them to live for so long.”

“Everyone deserves at least a chance to live. And they’re not so bad when you get to know them.”

His older brother snorted. “You’re pathetic. That kind of pansy shit’s going to get you killed one of these days.”

If Goku was offended, he didn’t show it. He laughed, beckoning them to see them off with his hand, and they followed with various levels of exasperation and amusement. They watched as he settled into one of the Attack Balls, and at the last minute, Bardock threw a black bag at him.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Curious, Goku unzipped it, and there was his orange gi that he had forgotten to put on before he stormed into the King’s Chamber. He turned to thank him, but the hatch closed, and the Attack Ball lurched into space. With a resigned sigh he settled back, his smile slowly fading, when he happened to overhear voices on his scouter. Apparently his team had forgotten to shut off communications before he left, which meant that they had probably planned to call him sooner or later.

“ _That damn Kakarot’s gone_ ,” Raditz grumbled. “ _I won’t hear the end of it if he shows up late again_.”

“ _I’d say. He has that horrible habit of visiting Earth when missions like these come our way. I guess that’s the pacifistic side of him coming out: visiting a little peaceful planet like that one before going out to the battlefield. If I didn’t know how strong he was, I’d say that he isn’t suited to be a Saiyan at all. He’s too kind_.”

Bardock guffawed so boisterously that Goku winced a bit. “ _That boy is anything but kind. Don’t let his appearance deceive you_.”

Hearing those words made Goku wince harder, but despite himself, he ended up letting out a little chuckle of his own. It figured that his father would be harshest of all when it came to him; their relationship was pretty strained. But it wasn’t like he was wrong.

Closing his eyes, Goku allowed their voices to lull him to sleep.

* * *

Everything was peaceful just like how he left it.

The Attack Ball landed in the middle of nowhere, on an island that he liked from a while back, and he stepped out, stretching a bit. Since King Vegeta had a treaty with Planet M-2, the technology on Planet Vegeta was much more advanced than anything in the universe, only second to Planet M-2 itself. The Attack Balls were no exception. At one time, it took a year for deployed Saiyans to travel across eight major planets. Now it only took a day, if that much. Most times it only took a few hours.

Reaching inside of the black bag, Goku pulled out a metal collar and snapped it around his neck, clicking a button on the back before he began to take off his clothes, changing into the orange gi that Master Roshi entrusted to him before he passed. He rubbed the tiny bloodstains littered all along the front before he climbed out of the crater and flew to his first destination: Capsule Corp. Goku passed by tranquil forests and bustling towns before finally landing in front of Bulma’s house. He walked in unannounced, but no one stopped him. With a quick sweep, he could see that Panchy and Dr. Briefs were nowhere to be seen, but he wasn’t looking for them. He headed straight for the laboratory, and he found Bulma hunched over the computer, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. Almost as if she sensed someone else in the room, she stiffened, her back straightening, before she turned around. Her face lit up when she saw it was just him.

“Goku!” She pushed out of her chair so quickly that it fell down and skidded across the floor, but neither of them paid it any mind. “I haven’t seen you in, what, two years? How have you been?”

She approached him with a bright smile and patted his arm, and he returned it with one of his own. “I’m hanging in there.” His eyes slid to her neck, to the identical collar that, unlike his, hummed with her heartbeat, and he grinned cheerfully. “You still have it on.”

Bulma laughed a tad bit nervously, brushing her fingers along the front of it.

“It’s not like I can take it off even if I wanted to, you know that.”

The choker hummed a bit louder, and Goku, in an attempt to assuage her building anxiety, pointed to his own collar.

“I’ve got one too, you know. We all do. You know how Vegeta is, super demanding and all that. I wish I could take it off of all of us, but…Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s alright,” she said, but her face hadn’t eased up in the slightest. He vaguely wondered if she knew the truth.

Changing the subject, he asked, “Have you found a way to find those dragon balls yet?”

Bulma’s back straightened a bit more. “No…I’ve been working on it, but it’s not complete yet, unfortunately. We would need a real dragon ball in order for me to use its’ wavelength to find the rest, but that’s where the problem lies. We haven’t been able to find even one so far.”

Goku frowned. When he was younger, he and Bulma used to look for dragon balls all the time. But after that incident happened, all of the data was wiped from her computer, and her dragon radar was mysteriously destroyed. If he had the dragon balls right now, he could have wished for longevity or immortality for Vegeta and himself, or maybe obscurity for Planet Vegeta, but as things stood, he wasn’t sure if the dragon balls would ever be discovered again. It wasn’t the end of the world, but…it would have been nice.

Bulma patted his arm. “Don’t look so down. I’m sure that we’ll find the dragon balls sooner than you think. I’ve even asked for some extra help so we can find them much quicker. But until then, why don’t you grab a bite to eat? You look like you could use some good food.”

Almost immediately, he perked up, and she giggled, guiding him into the living room. Her mother remained to be unseen, but Bulma eagerly took on her role, although Goku had a feeling it was because she hadn’t progressed very far with her research and wanted to appease him. But he understood that she was a busy woman, and she had a life outside of the one he provided for her. And when he was eating plates and plates of gourmet dishes like these, he couldn’t complain much.

After he was done, he patted his belly, fully sated. He jumped to his feet and then gave Bulma a winning smile that made her relax just like he wanted her to, and then he departed from her with a simple word of thanks. She waved at him as he flew upwards, and he sped off to his next destination.

Barely anyone had noticed him flying over them, but the few that happened to notice blanched, the collars on their neck humming loudly, and they froze, keeping their gaze resolutely to the ground. Frowning, Goku turned his attention from the people below him, increasing his speed until he found himself floating in front of a bodacious building with two revolving glass doors. He walked in, and almost immediately everyone’s attention turned to him, their collars humming obstreperously in unison, filling the silence like a gentle melody. But a few seconds passed, and the moment popped. Everyone carried on as usual.

“Son Goku!” One of the front attendants spoke a quiet word to her client before she rushed over to where he stood, holding out a manicured hand in greeting. He took it, and her pleasant smile widened. “It’s been a while since you’ve been here. How are you?”

“I’m hanging in there,” he simpered, a good-natured laugh escaping past his lips. “But wow, you guys definitely changed this place since I’ve been gone.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Satan was generous enough to give a hefty donation to the City Hall.” She gestured to the stainless glass counters, the iridescent marble flooring, the overhead chandeliers, and the plush burgundy couches. They talked a while before her eyes began to shift to the side uneasily, and after the fourth time that she glanced away, Goku caught it.

“What’s wrong?”

The attendant smiled again, pushing a stray strand of hair to the back of her ear, attempting to draw his attention away from her slip. The collar around her neck hummed louder than before, and those that remained with the waiting vestibule of the City Hall watched them, their eyes wide and their lips tight.

“Oh no, it’s nothing. Nothing for you to worry about at least.”

“But you look so upset,” he pushed, and she bit her lip. “And everyone’s been so tense in here. Did something happen?”

Her eyes darted to the three clients and the other two attendants that watched the two of them before she returned her gaze to Goku’s. She paled considerably when she saw that he was following her vision and her collar began to buzz viciously. Her eyes bore a hole in the ground, and she became restless, breathing a bit more lightly, her chest heaving. She swallowed heavily.

“Well—”

“There was a robbery a few days ago.” One of the two attendants interrupted her, navigating around the counter to reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. His collar was humming just as loudly as hers, but when they came together, it softened to a dull murmur. Goku was fascinated with the change, but the male attendant’s words caught up with him, and he found himself disregarding it. Excitement bubbled within him, and he laughed, patting them both on their shoulders. They were stiff as a board.

“Oh, is that all? Geez, you had me worried for a second there.” His smile sharpened, and his fingers dug into their bones. “Did the police come?”

“No, not at all, just like you requested. Although we do have video footage from the incident. Would you like to see it?”

Goku eagerly agreed, and the male assistant led him to the back. He got a face, a name, and an address. When he asked if there was anything that he could do to help, the male attendant quickly assured him that everything was fine and that they would let him know if anything arose. Goku doubted that, judging by how hesitant his coworker was with him, but he didn’t push it. He didn’t want to make them any more uncomfortable than they already were, and they probably were stressed just from that robbery that happened a few days ago. One hundred thousand zeni was stolen, they had said? He would regain all of that money back and then some.

As that robbery was the only crime that happened in the two years that he was gone—this he knew, they may have tried to hide the truth from him, but eventually it would have gotten out—he made it a priority to give that man a visit before he went anywhere else. He flew over three towns away to a slightly run-down house tucked away in a piddly little corner. He knocked on the door, but no one was there. His scouter indicated otherwise.

He tugged the door open, breaking it clear off of its rusted hinges, and a barrel of bullets came streaming towards his face. Goku beamed, happily playing along. He allowed the bullets to pierce him in his stomach, chest, and legs. And then, just as if he was any normal human, he fell to floor, mimicking a possum. The robber, a young man with a sleek haircut and ragged clothing, hesitantly tip-toed out afterwards, staring at Goku’s body. He huffed, he chuckled, and then he cackled victoriously.

Until Goku rose from the ground.

The robber’s face fell, and he started to back away, but Goku reached out for his arm.

“Oh no you don’t.” He grabbed onto his forearm. “Where’s the money you stole?”

“M-money? I don’t have any money.” He tugged his arm, but Goku held tight onto it.

“Don’t lie, I know you have it. A whole bunch of people saw you steal it from the City Hall. Now where is it? I don’t want to fight you if I don’t have to.”

The man snarled, trying one more time to tug his arm away. But when he couldn’t, he pushed the gun in Goku’s chest instead. The collar around this man’s neck buzzed violently, and his hands trembled. He paused just long enough for Goku to bend the tip of his gun with two fingers and toss it off to the side. He grinned, and the man next to him shivered, his face paling.

“If you won’t give up the money without a fight, that’s fine. We’ve got daily tournaments just for this reason.” He lifted him up, and the man began to struggle frantically.

“W-wait! I don’t know how to fight!”

“Of course you do,” Goku replied cheerfully. “Because everyone’s required to participate in the Tenkaichi Tournament at least once, which means that you’ve fought before. Lemme see what you can do.”

And without giving the robber another chance to back out, Goku flew as fast as he could, his heart thumping in his chest, adrenaline pooling into his system. In mere minutes, he was standing over a crowded stadium, roars echoing loudly as two participants sparred with each other. Catcalls and hollers rose to the skies, and reporters took copious pictures and notes, adding to the cacophony of enthusiasm that fed both fighters on.

It abruptly fell silent when Goku descended.

The participants froze, as did everyone else, but Goku waved at them to continue. He sat at the very bottom of the bleachers, and those that were near him sat as still as a stone. He smiled at them in greeting, and they smiled back, but they didn’t move, much less speak. So he turned back to the ring, cheering them on to fight harder, giving them advice, and the two fighters began to battle ruthlessly, striking hard enough to draw blood. One overpowered the other, and he stood up and cheered. His encouragement filled the silence.

Next to him, the robber tugged in Goku’s grasp, and his hand tightened, making him wince in pain. Goku quickly loosened his grip.

“Sorry about that,” he said, “but I really want to fight you now. I really hope you’re a challenge too, because I’m getting really pumped up.”

Shortly after that, the round ended, and everyone turned expectantly to Goku and the young man who had given into his fate. They watched as Goku pulled him to the front and placed him on the ring in front of thousands of spectators and dozens of cameras and reporters. Goku grinned and waved at them, and they mechanically waved back.

The Announcer introduced the next battle and initiated it, and Goku pressed a button on his scouter, examining his opponent. If he could even be called that. He was…if Goku had even fought with a fraction of his power, this man would most likely die. Today, he would go easy on him.

“I’ll give you the first hit.” He opened his arms wide. “Unless you want to look bad in front of all of these people by running away? You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

The man glared at him, balling up his fist. He ran towards Goku with all intentions of throwing the first punch, and Goku yanked his arm forward. He felt something distinctly _pop_ and the man screamed, stopping dead in his tracks, holding his shoulder.

“Oh…” He nervously laughed. “Oops. Here, I’ll put it back in.”

Goku held down the man’s dislocated shoulder and jerked it in with a portion of his might, but the man screamed. His trapezius was bruised, and a lump was beginning to form between his neck and his shoulder. He sobbed, reaching out with his other hand, placing it on top of Goku’s lightly and tapping, a wordless plea for mercy. But Goku hadn’t noticed it.

“Hm, that’s odd…” He wrenched the man’s arm back and forth, and he bawled at the pain, coming down on his knees. A thought ran to the forefront of Goku’s mind, but it had disappeared in the next moment.

“That’s right, wasn’t it from an angle or something?” He pushed his arm as far back as it could go, and the robber howled, babbling unintelligently, his mouth watering. His arm was completely backwards, his palm and his elbow facing his back, and his scapula was completely shattered. But Goku wasn’t done. He just needed to…

“Alright, lemme try this.” He pushed the man on his back, but he fell too hard on him. His knees dug into the young man’s thighs, and he heard a distinct crunch. But he thought it to be the gravel underneath them, so he continued, pulling the arm back to its original posture, breaking the bones on his thighs until they became swollen. When he realized what he had done, he stopped.

“Ah…maybe I’ll just leave it to the medics after all.” The moment he stepped away from him, they swarmed around the injured man, wiping his face, surveying his wounds. Goku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty for doing so much damage to him.

“I wasn’t even going to fight him, but he insisted that he wouldn’t give up the money he stole, so…” He turned back to his captive audience with a small shrug. “Guess it’s probably better not to do anything stupid, huh.”

No one answered him, but their terrified faces spoke for themselves. Their terrified faces, and the uncontrollable buzzing that filled the stadium. Their collars shone, and one of them screeched so loudly and stopped so suddenly that Goku _knew_. He wasn’t sure who it was, but it was someone. He hadn’t meant to do _that_. But what was done was done, and he couldn’t find the heart to beat himself up for what already happened. If he had the dragon balls, then maybe he could have found out who that was and help them, but Bulma wasn’t finished yet.

Well. It wasn’t as if this was the first time this happened.

“…I’ll get senzu beans. That should patch him right up.” Goku teleported to Karin’s Tower afterwards, not even bothering to wait for a response. When he got there, the only one visible was Karin himself. Yajirobe was probably hiding somewhere inside, maybe under a table or something. Goku wasn’t sure why he always did that when he showed up, but he thought it was incredibly humorous. What was there to be afraid of? It’s not like _he_ was the bad guy around here. He just wanted to help everyone, to protect them from each other, and to encourage them to get stronger in any way that he could.

Karin strolled over to him, cane in hand. For a cat, he was very expressive. And Goku could already tell that he was just a tad bit exasperated that he showed here the way he did. He probably smelled the stench emanating from his body from miles away. It wasn’t blood because Goku hadn’t killed anyone on Earth. He truly thought that everyone deserved at least a chance to live. But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t something foul on him. Bardock sensed it, Vegeta knew it, and Karin smelled it. But he and Karin both knew that he wasn’t going to place his paws where they weren’t wanted.

“Hey, Lord Karin!”

Karin sighed. “You did it again, Goku? You really need to learn to control your strength.” He threw three small bags at him, all of which Goku caught with stumbling accuracy. Karin snorted at Goku’s antics, faintly amused. He wasn’t entertained enough to keep him around for long, though.

“Get outta here, Goku. You got what you came for.”

Goku rubbed the bags in his fingers, trying to get an approximation of how much he was given this time, and then nodded. “Yeah, thanks a lot. See you later!”

After waving jovially, he used Instant Transmission to return to the stadium. It was almost as if Kami had stopped time himself, because no one had moved from the spots that he left them in. Not the medics, not the Announcer, and not the audience. Murmurs had begun to fill the bleachers, but it all fell silent when he came back and stood in the ring. Goku smiled, tilting his head, and the medics parted for him. He casually walked up to them, and their collars purred. He reached down and fed the young man a senzu bean, holding him down when he began to struggle. The cracks and sears as his bones popped back into place and Goku’s soft, measured breaths filled the stadium, and some of their collars purred a bit louder. When that was all that was left, he eased up, lifting the young man with a hand and pulled much more carefully than he had done the first time. And like before, their eyes were wide, the lips tight. They didn’t know what to expect, he could tell.

But when he flew into the sky, their shoulders relaxed, and the audience heaved a small sigh. Goku should have felt affronted at that, maybe pouted a bit—this _was_ his home planet, early recruitment or no, and to have his own people be so distrustful and so scared of him like this was a bit of a slap in the face, especially considering that he saved them all from King Piccolo—but this was nothing new. Maybe one day they would live long enough to see why he does what he does. Maybe one day they would hate him for it.

Maybe one day they would break from it.

He flew back to the robber’s house and kindly asked him for the money that he was due. And unlike before, the young man humbly led Goku to his safe and handed him the one hundred thousand zeni. He even gave Goku a little extra, just like what he expected. Because if he learned anything about Earthlings, they were willing to do a little extra with a little incentive. He patted the rigid young man on the back before he teleported to the City Hall. They were incredibly grateful to him, frenetically thanking him over and over again, but their smiles twitched a bit too violently and their collars shone brightly. They probably saw what happened on their little television set in the waiting area then.

As long as they abided by the rules that King Furry set in place, he would never see the need to fight with them. But for some reason, no one ever seemed to get that he was mainly doing this for their good. The amount of crimes on Earth drastically decreased in the last six years. And although the average power level was still barely above 1000, it was an improvement from what it was before. If it was King Vegeta, he would have slaughtered the weakest ones until everyone else became strong, but Goku wasn’t cruel like that. He would give everyone an equal chance to grow stronger if they chose to. They should be thanking him, not _this_.

He huffed before he flew back over uneven mountains and the same tranquil forests that he passed on the way to see Bulma, and something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He looked, and sure enough, there was an airplane, most likely heading towards North City. But it was flying high, _too_ high, and if it didn’t lower its altitude—

“Oh man,” Goku groaned when the airplane suddenly dipped, “I told them that they shouldn’t do that.”

Changing course, Goku flew after it, lagging behind a bit to catch it just in time. When it dived into the mountains, he sped up just enough to stop it, slowing its motion until it finally skidded and stopped altogether. He flew up just a little to get a better view of the windows, but he had a feeling that he already knew the answer when he took a good look. The windows were covered in a dark, thick, sickly red, and the putrid stench of blood tickled his nostrils. He circled around, looking for the emergency exit, and then he finally rose a bit higher. He stood on the top of the plane and bent down, wrenching on the handle and tugging on it until it gave in. He flew down.

Headless bodies littered the floor, their limbs bent in strange directions from the impact of the explosion. Some bodies were flung over blood-coated seats; others were dismembered entirely, lacking everything but their torso. The only thing that remained of all of their heads were the deactivated metal collars that were cracked open, sizzling. Wordlessly, Goku pressed a side button his scouter, searching for any life forms left on the plane, and when he didn’t find anything with that, he sought out even the smallest, weakest ki. But similar to the scouter, nothing jumped out at him, and he mourned for a bit before flying back to Chichi’s house. He didn’t bother to bury them.

Someone would eventually find the bodies anyways. The news reporters would probably make a big deal about it, as if it was some sort of strange occurrence that they had never seen before. But the truth was: that could happen to any one of them, and everyone knew it. But that shouldn’t be a reason for them to be worried. They just shouldn’t travel so high up, that’s all. It was no different than what they usually did on this planet. The collars were nothing more than an enforcement of what was already supposed to be there. Just like how Goku enforced the rules whenever someone broke them. And if Bulma finished with her research, then they could restore back all of the people who died. And maybe if it wasn’t too late, then Master Roshi and Krillin and Yamcha and Tenshinhan could be brought back as well. They were a good challenge, the best challenge this planet had to offer, probably the _only_ challenge this planet had to offer outside of his own son.

He arrived at Chichi’s house, and almost immediately Chichi ran out to greet him. Her collar wasn’t dead, but it hadn’t hummed like everyone else’s, and he felt like he was safe at home. For a strange moment, he had a wild impulse to deactivate her collar. Turn it right off and take her and Gohan with him back to Planet Vegeta so she could meet his king, his brother, his father, and all of his other teammates and friends. But the moment passed, and he just goofily grinned as she chastised him about leaving them alone for two years without so much as even a phone call.

“Where is he, anyways?” He peered around her back. She folded her arms defiantly.

“Studying, like he’s supposed to be.”

“You haven’t been letting him train?”

“Of course I have,” she snapped. “That Vegeta fellow will kill us if we’re not strong enough, won’t he? I refuse to have my only son killed by some—some monster. No, I’ve been training him whenever I can in your stead.”

Goku opened his mouth and then closed it right back. He laughed, scratching the back of his head.

“Sorry about that…”

She sniffed. “Well, it’s not like it’s your fault things are like this. You’re just like us.”

He wasn’t, but he wouldn’t correct her. It was better to let her think what she wanted if it made her feel better.

After another few minutes of catching up, Goku checked his scouter. He only had two hours left until he had to leave if he wanted to get back to Planet Vegeta on time. And while it was nice to talk with her, he really didn’t want to get yelled at by Vegeta again. So he started to urge her to bring out Gohan.

“Just for a bit,” he urged lightly. “I haven’t seen him in so long. Please, Chichi?”

“That’s your own fault for not coming home,” she retorted sourly. But she gave in with a resigned sigh and she called her son. Just like Chichi had, Gohan had immediately came to see him, beaming. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Goku’s torso, and Goku patted his head. He wasn’t too good with emotional moments like these, but for Gohan, he would at least try. Goku rubbed his hair and Gohan’s collar remained blissfully silent. He got the niceties out of the way, telling Gohan that he really wanted to see how strong he got when he was gone. And Gohan, wanting so much to please his father who he only saw five times in his entire life, eagerly agreed. He moved away from Goku and assumed a fighting stance, and after Goku did a quick scan to see what his power level was, he invited him to attack.

In many respects, Gohan was a much better person than he was. He was intelligent, kind, and truly loyal to his family and friends. And most of all, he was strong, much stronger than Goku was when he was his age. But if there was something he was not, he wasn’t a good Saiyan, not at all. Raditz and Fasha loved to tease him about how he was much too merciful to truly be a Saiyan, but reluctance to take a life wasn’t weakness. Today’s enemy could be tomorrow’s ally, he knew that all too well. It was how he made all of his connections so far. But Gohan…Gohan hadn’t even wanted to hurt him in the first place. He didn’t want to hurt _anyone_ , and that wouldn’t do any good. Strength was useless if it wasn’t utilized properly.

“C’mon,” he goaded, blocking another weakly-thrown punch to his stomach, “I know you can do better than that.”

But Gohan didn’t let up, and Goku tried something else.

“Are you going to fight like this if someone comes to destroy the planet? Are you going to let your mother get killed without even raising a finger? Or are you just too weak to stop it? Is that it, Gohan?”

And finally, just like what he wanted, Gohan’s eyes flashed, and he fought as hard as he could. Goku could feel something stirring in his blood, and he grinned, releasing some of his own power to spar. At this point, he was sure that Gohan could take it, he had finally become strong enough. But his son was starting to become tired after an hour of fighting, and his power level decreased. But Goku didn’t stop. He kept firing ki blasts at Gohan, alternating between using all of the techniques that Tenshinhan, Yamcha, and Master Roshi taught him and slowly, Gohan’s defenses began to crumble until there was nothing left. That should have been the moment to stop. He would have stopped if it was anyone else. But it wasn’t, it was his Gohan, the only half-Saiyan on the planet with a power level that was several thousand above average. If there was anyone who could take it, it would be him.

He kept going. He kept kicking and punching his seven-year-old son until his face and his stomach were black and blue, until he coughed out a smidgeon of blood and spat out a tooth when he tilted his head to the side, until a growing buzz rose in the air, until Chichi began to yell at him, until her screams lowered into pleas. She should have known by now that Goku wasn’t going to kill him, but every time this happened, she always did the same thing. But like he always did, he stopped. Goku really didn’t like seeing Chichi break down like this—she was the only one on this planet who still had the mental fortitude to argue with him, and he wanted to keep it that way—so he relented, powering down and sitting next to his son in the grass. He brushed the blood from Gohan’s face and titled his head up. Gohan’s eyes blearily met his own.

“How…how did I do?”

“You did great, son. Now do me a favor and eat this for me.” He opened one of the brown bags that he kept next to his chest and placed a senzu bean on his mouth. Grateful, Gohan opened his mouth, and Goku popped it in, running his fingers through Gohan’s hair as he ate it. Giving him one last pat on the head, Goku released him and started to fly upwards. At the last moment, Chichi stopped him. Her collar was still buzzing, but it was much lower than before, almost inaudible. Her fingers were tightly interwoven into Gohan’s.

“Can’t you stay for a little while? You just came back home.”

“I have to go on a mission,” he replied, and her face fell a bit. “But I’ll come back when it’s over.”

She hissed, ready to throw him a scathing retort, but then she froze. Reluctantly, she allowed him to go, but not without taking something to eat with him. She urged him to catch up with Gohan at the very least until she was done packing him something to take with him. Persuaded by the thought of even more home-made food, he stayed, listening to Gohan’s stories and trading some of his own.

When he finally left exactly an hour later, he gave a kiss to Chichi’s forehead and to her neck, right above her collar. Like every other, her collar shone brightly underneath his touch.

* * *

Vegeta was alone in the King’s Chambers when Goku teleported to him.

“I got back just in time,” he said triumphantly. His grin widened when Vegeta took his eyes off his paperwork, staring at Goku, nonplussed.

“You say that as if it’s something to be proud of.”

“But last time you were really upset that I came late.” He strode to the Lrix and sat in the chair right next to Vegeta’s despite there being fourteen other vacant seats that were considerably away from the king. Their knees touched, but neither of them bothered to move. Leaning forward, Goku took one of the pile of papers that Vegeta hadn’t completed yet, thumbing through it before setting it back down again.

“Punctuality is a necessity, not a luxury, Kakarot.” Vegeta snatched back the papers that Goku had left in front of him and placed it on the far edge of the round table, far from Goku’s roaming hands. “And you’re not on time yet. You were to report to the Assembly Hall at 1840. It’s 1835.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Vegeta turned back to his pile of documents, stamping one before setting it aside. “You have five minutes. Tell me about E4671-1. And take off that ridiculous collar, it’s unbecoming of a Saiyan warrior.”

Goku laughed. “Sorry about that.” He reached to the back of his neck and fumbled around for the switch, his index finger jabbing it on accident. The metal choker snapped open, and he pried it off. He rubbed his throat before he continued.

“It was a lot of fun! They’ve got lots of good food and it’s really peaceful there. No one’s able to beat me yet, but there’s still hope.” He caught the gleam of interest in Vegeta’s eyes and he leaned in. “My son, Gohan. He’s the only one who could become strong enough to beat me. Can you believe his power level is at 15,000 now? And at so young, too. He’s only seven, and he’s much stronger than I was when I was his age.”

“Then bring him along next time.”

“Chichi won’t let me,” Goku whined. “She always wants Gohan to study.”

“So you’re going to let some Earthling harpy take control of your spawn? Don’t make me laugh. Bring the boy here next time you go down to E4671-1. If you must, bring the woman with you. And the other one, that scientist who created that capsular gravitational room.”

“You mean Bulma? I don’t think she’d be willing to leave Earth, either. She’s got her father and—”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I only want results. Do what you must, but bring them next time. Or what, should I lower myself and go with you?”

Vegeta fixed him with a look, and Goku relented, offering his hands up in capitulation. He agreed to do what he could to convince his friend and his family to come, although he knew what would already happen. Satisfied, Vegeta turned back to his work, and Goku checked his scouter. He pushed his chair back and stood up, answering the king’s quick glance with a smile and a tap to his wrist.

“Well, it’s time for me to go. Right, this is for you. Got you senzu beans, just like I said.” He pulled out a bag and tossed it at King Vegeta, who caught it, placing it next to him. Goku lingered a bit longer as he silently watched him work, and then he finally turned around with all intentions of leaving.

“Kakarot.”

Goku tilted his head in Vegeta’s direction.

“Yes?”

Vegeta placed down his pen, staring at Goku carefully. “There was a sharp change in the biometrics near South City. You didn’t mention that.”

“A sharp change…? Oh!” Goku turned and nervously laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got a bit carried away, I think.”

“A _bit_?”

“I used too much strength in the Tenkaichi Tournament against a civilian. And everyone got a little scared. Someone died, I think. It wasn’t on purpose, it’s just—”

“Stop that.” Vegeta pushed his chair back and closed the distance between them, his robes trailing silently behind him. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of Goku. He lifted his eyes to meet Goku’s, regarding him carefully. “Don’t think me an idiot to believe anything and everything that comes out of your mouth.”

“I don’t think that at all.” Goku stepped back once, and Vegeta followed him. “I really think that you’re amazing, Vegeta. I would never think that about you at all.”

“Then you must think I’m to be played like everyone else. You may fool others, Kakarot, but let me tell you: you certainly don’t fool me. Using me as your scapegoat to justify your possessive wants? Creating those silly collars and initiating petty demonstrations to instill fear into the hearts of those pathetic Earthlings? No, it wasn’t an accident. Nothing you’ve ever done on that planet was.”

Goku’s eye twitched, and Vegeta leaned in a bit closer, his eyes darker.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that you actually care for their lives. Tell me that you colonized that backwater planet for something more than your twisted regalement.”

The longer that Vegeta looked him in the eye was the more that Goku felt himself relent, and he gave in with a sigh.

“Ah…” Goku chuckled. “But I really do like them, you know. Really interesting people, the lot of them. Has good food too. If I didn’t do that, they’d seek shelter from nearby planets, and that would be a pain. So I figured I’d nip it in the bud before they even got the chance. And everyone always listens when it comes to you. Sorry about that, Vegeta.”

Content with his admission, the king finally leaned back and folded his arms, smirking smugly.

“Hmph. They’re not so unique that they’re worth saving. Earthlings are quite the primordial breed, and they’re incredibly resistant to change. Their technology isn’t terribly advanced, and the one redeeming quality of theirs, the healing capabilities of those ‘senzu beans’ you bring back with you, can easily be duplicated by our research team. Not to mention that there are other planets you can conquer with much more spunk than these spineless cowards.” Vegeta’s gaze became heavy.

“Then why not kill them now? Don’t tell me you’ve gone _sentimental_ for them.”

Oh. That’s what he wanted to know.

How long would this charade last?

How much longer would he use them as an outlet for his bloodthirst?

But...he couldn’t just kill them now. He’s had them in his grasp for so long, and he worked so hard to get to where he did. Having the Machine Mutants create over a billion explosive chokers for the purpose of caging Earthlings on their own planet, deceiving them with non-existent threats, destroying the military and the government and twisting the rules to his liking, restructuring the monetary flow of every country on the planet and utilizing it for the sake of creating fighters that he would eventually fight to sate his hunger, everything that he has done in the last eight years would go to waste if he killed them now. And although everyone was afraid of him, they were growing. He wanted to see how far they would go until they broke. He wanted to be there when they finally slipped, when they couldn’t take it anymore and they exploded from the inside-out, just like that person at the stadium. And when everyone died, he would bring them all back with the dragon balls to do it all over again.

He thought about it, and the more he thought about it was the more he felt that itching in the back of his brain become more and more prominent, and his hands balled into fists. He didn’t want to let go, not now, not in a public place where anyone could just walk in, but it was just him and Vegeta, and it wasn’t as if Vegeta hadn’t seen it before. He knew how ugly Goku could get when he wanted to, how ruthless he could be. It was why he started this in the first place. There wouldn’t be any fatal mistakes on the battlefield if he had a planet full of ensnared fighters just waiting for him right back at his home planet. Just thinking about it made his blood pump a bit harder, and he licked his lips.

He finally allowed himself to slip, and he knew that Vegeta noticed the change when his expression shifted slightly.

“Nah.” He smirked at Vegeta. “There’s just no fun in killing them outright. It’s better to see them do themselves in.”

He leaned forward this time, reaching out to touch Vegeta’s neck, his thumb rubbing over where the collar would have been had he been an Earthling. Under his touch, the king’s heartbeat was slow and steady. He should have expected nothing less, but it still pleased Goku regardless.

“You should do it too—play with your food, I mean.”

He bent down and leaned a little bit closer to his neck when Vegeta let out a small hiss in warning, and Goku regained himself. He took a few steps back, and this time Vegeta didn’t follow him. He had gotten what he wanted, and Goku wouldn’t pursue it. Not now, not when he was about to go on a mission.

“Sorry about that.” He made a show of clicking the side buttons on his scouter and laughing comically at the number of messages Raditz left in his inbox. “Well, if that’s it, I’m going to go now. See you in the Assembly Hall! And take care of yourself while I’m gone.”

Before the king could respond, he teleported to the Assembly Hall where he was given a few smacks and a lecture by his older brother and soft words of chastisement by Fasha and Toma.

When he departed in his Attack Ball, Goku felt as calm as he did before he ever saw the mission at all—and ready to save another planet in need, ready to be the kind-hearted Saiyan that everyone reluctantly knew and loved. He would protect and he would fight without taking lives. He would give his enemies a second, third, and a fourth chance at redemption, and if they ever needed help, he would make sure to give a lending hand to their people if they needed it.

He had his own planet to destroy after all.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, Goku was ten minutes late lol. Hardly the point but still XD
> 
> This was so exhausting to write. I started off strong, and then I got really tired (it is now way past midnight and I have a killer headache. Yay.) But I really wanted to put this out as soon as I can. I was all like, “My outline is done, and it’ll be nice and short, just 4.5K. Ready? Yeah!” 7K later and I’m still not done. I wasn't even able to properly write with the original feel of my outline sigh. Anyways.
> 
> I'll edit as I re-read this again, but if anyone notices any mistakes, please let me know.
> 
> I’ll probably take another shot at psychological horror and the KNG series sometime in the future. Hopefully it’ll turn out better than this.


End file.
